


Twins

by vericus



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Crack, M/M, Multi, Other, Smut, Wheeljack's Inventions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:50:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vericus/pseuds/vericus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a special agent that frequently went on undercover, secretive missions, Jazz was used to being out of touch with the base and having interesting surprises when he came back.  This surprise was topping them all in every respect, however.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twins

"Hey Ratch,” Jazz greeted cheerily as he wandered into med bay. Ratchet, looking up from where he'd been messing with one of Wheeljack's arms, looked surprised, then unexpectedly grinned widely.

"You're back early,” he said, and Jazz eyed the medic warily. Ratchet sounded like a youngling that had just discovered the secret to the lock on the energon goody cabinet.

"Yeah, was pretty easy," the saboteur said. "Just finished givin' Prime my report, came to get looked over by you."

"Alright, hop up, I'll give you a scan,” Ratchet said, leaving Wheeljack's arm alone and motioning to a berth. Jazz hopped up, and looked over at the curiously silent Wheeljack.

"Alright there Jack? Have another lab explosion?" Jazz asked. Wheeljack gave Jazz a pitiful look, his blinkers flashing sadly, and when the engineer pointed to his neck, Jazz realized Ratchet had disabled Wheeljack's vocal processor. He gave the medic an alarmed look.

"Don't be paranoid. I just got tired of hearing him talk. He's been rambling on for days about his last experiment,” Ratchet said with a snort as he began to scan Jazz.

"He does that usually,” Jazz pointed out.

"He's twice as bad this time,” Ratchet replied dryly. "Trust me." There was a cryptic surety to Ratchet's voice that stopped Jazz from questioning the medic's statement, especially when he looked over at Wheeljack only to have the engineer give him a sheepish look and a slight shrug.

"So what was his last experiment?" Jazz asked curiously.

"You'll excuse me if I don't want to talk about it. I muted Jack to get away from talking about it, after all,” Ratchet grunted. Wheeljack must have pinged a message into Ratchet's comm system, because the medic suddenly whirled and chucked a wrench at Wheeljack's head, leaving a deep dent and sending the engineer toppling off the berth. Wheeljack just hauled himself back up, blinkers flashing merrily with laughter. Ratchet glared at the engineer, then turned back to Jazz. "You look fine to me. Anything feel out?"

"Nah,” Jazz said with a shake of his head - he'd just come in for a standard post-mission check-up.

"Alright, get out then. I want to finish dealing with this hooligan so he can get back to work,” Ratchet said, glaring at Wheeljack, and Jazz gave the engineer a combination of an amused and sympathetic look as he hopped down off the berth. Waving goodbye, Jazz whistled cheerfully to himself as he headed out of med bay. Time to go find Prowl and see if the tactician had done _any_ socializing while Jazz had been gone.

"Hi Jazz, welcome back!" Jazz absently returned the greeting as he passed the mech, not even registering who it was, his thoughts focused on the oblivious object of his affections that he was off to see. Until he got to the end of the hallway and the identity of the mech he'd just passed sunk into his processor. He froze in the spot for a moment as he re-processed the data, then slowly turned to look back down the hall, but the mech was no longer in sight. "Huh,” Jazz murmured, then started walking back towards med bay. There was obviously something wrong with him after all, because there was no way Ratchet could have hooked up Wheeljack's vocal processor fast enough for the engineer to get ahead of Jazz. 

When he stepped into med bay again, however, Jazz realized that _he_ wasn't the one who had the problem.

"Twice as bad, huh?" was all Jazz could come up with as he stared at the two Wheeljacks, one with a disabled vocal processor sitting on a berth while the other stood nearby and chattered merrily away. Ratchet just gave Jazz a sour look.

\---

"So, two Jacks,” Jazz said as he sprawled in the chair in Prowl's office - evidently, the tactician had been 'too busy working' to go out and socialize while Jazz was gone.

"Yes, it's been quite interesting,” Prowl replied, not even looking up from his datapad.

"Does his lab even exist anymore?" Jazz asked curiously.

"Surprisingly, they seem to be less accident prone when working together,” Prowl commented.

"You seem awfully calm about it,” Jazz said suspiciously.

"I've had a few days to get used to it, Jazz. Seeing double has become a common theme around the Ark these days,” Prowl said dryly.

"And not just when Wheeljack is involved,” an identical voice said from the doorway, and Jazz jumped, startled. Then he stared in shock as Prowl's exact duplicate entered the office and handed some datapads to the one behind the desk.

"Thank you. Do you mind...?" the Prowl behind the desk nodded to Jazz, and the new one frowned, but nodded.

"Come on, Jazz, I'll explain elsewhere. I have work to do,” the new Prowl said, nodding to the one behind the desk. Jazz glanced between the two Prowls, the warily got up and followed the second one out of the office.

"You got duplicated, too?" Jazz asked curiously as they walked, and Prowl nodded.

"As well as Ratchet, though you'll rarely run into both of him. The twins seem content to keep one of him busy almost constantly,” Prowl said, then chuckled slightly. "Of course, that was only after they realized that with two of me around, they couldn't get away with anything. So they've pretty much locked themselves in Ratchet's quarters with one or the other of him at all times."

"Oh,” Jazz said in surprised. "How did this happen? Ratchet kicked me out because he didn't want to hear about it."

"Wheeljack was attempting to simulate Skywarp's teleportation ability, but during the test of the proto-type, something, as usual, went awry,” Prowl said with a sigh. "The device went into overdrive, and instead of teleporting the box Wheeljack intended, it duplicated everything in the lab. Including myself, Ratchet, and Wheeljack."

"Wow. So is one set'a you the real one, or...?" Jazz trailed off.

"So far as Skyfire, Perceptor, First Aid, AND Ratchet and Wheeljack themselves can tell, we are completely identical to our doubles,” Prowl said. "However, for the sake of expediency, those that were in the lab are being called the 'real' ones, and those of us that appeared inside the duplicate lab are the 'duplicates',” There was a slight tone of bitterness to Prowl's statement, and Jazz nudged the other Bot slightly with his shoulder.

"Hey, gotta tell ya apart somehow,” Jazz said. "Besides, you know better'n I th'chaos that could come about with duplicate officer's runnin' around."

"Yes, but it's not like the problems couldn't be easily solved. I am in near constant contact with myself, for example. I know everything the other me is doing, and he knows what I'm doing,” Prowl said.

"Isn't that...disconcertin'?" Jazz asked.

"It hasn't been,” Prowl said, sounding vaguely amused about something.

"...past tense?" Jazz questioned curiously.

"You tend to be distracting. The 'real' Prowl, for example, has been reading the same screen on the same datapad ever since we left the office, focusing instead on our conversation,” Prowl replied, looking over at Jazz with a faint grin. It took Jazz a moment to register the implications behind that and then he had to focus hard to keep from stumbling - maybe it was just this 'duplicate' Prowl, but maybe the oblivious object of his affections wasn't as oblivious as he thought. And frag it, after several thousand vorns, he'd take any chance he could get.

"Distractin', hm?" Jazz said, giving Prowl the most flirtatious grin he could muster. "Now how could little ol' me manage ta distract someone with your abilities for concentration?"

"Hmm, usually just by walking into the room, or speaking over my comm,” Prowl replied, and was it Jazz's imagination, or had the tactician's voice dropped an octave?

"I know I can be a bit of an attention hog, Prowler, but I din't think I attracted it that easily,” Jazz replied, cautiously edging himself closer to Prowl as they walked. He had completely lost track of where they were going, focused on this sudden development with Prowl. He was half-expecting the other Prowl to come running around the corner and ask the other him what the frag he thought he was doing.

"Hmm, I suspect it's an attraction specific to only me,” Prowl replied, and this time, Jazz was sure that his voice was lower than normal. Jazz was also aware that his systems were heating up suspiciously, and looked away as he attempted to distract himself and cool down. There was an unexpected chuckle from Prowl, and Jazz whipped his head back around, frowning at the tactician's duplicate.

"It appears Ratchet was right,” Prowl said with a slight smirk.

"What's that supposed ta mean?" Jazz asked.

"With two of me, and two of Ratchet, wandering around, we've been able to have...discussions that have been long overdue,” Prowl mused.

"About what?" Jazz asked, frowning and not sure he wanted to know the answer. He still wasn't sure he wanted to know when Prowl suddenly stopped and leaned in so his mouth was next to Jazz's audio.

"You,” the tactician said in what Jazz could only classify as a low, sultry voice, and then abruptly pulled away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Prime wants to talk to one of me." And with that, Prowl was gone, heading down the hallway at a quick pace, so that he was well out of sight by the time Jazz had recovered enough to think coherently. That was when Jazz realized Prowl had led him to his quarters, and with a grateful prayer to Primus, he slipped inside his quarters, heading straight for his private stash of high grade. He needed a nice smooth cube and some time to think over the conversation that had just occurred.

\---

Jazz had determined that the best way to handle Prowl's sudden flirting was just to go with it, and see where it led. He was somewhat worried that it might end badly for him, but he also trusted Prowl. He'd had enough earnest, overcharged conversations with the tactician to know that Prowl never engaged in any personal relationships without being serious about it. He particularly remembered Prowl's rants about the femmes who liked to throw themselves at him during the formal 'meet and greets' Sentinel Prime had been so fond of holding. Prowl's main complaint had always been that the femmes saw him as Sentinel Prime's advisor and wanted to be able to claim an interface with him - with a stress on the singular interfacing.

So, Jazz was reasonably sure that if Prowl was deciding to make a move now, it wasn't for any sort of 'one-night stand' type of thing, as the humans called it. Well, unless Wheeljack's machine had actually split them into evil and good versions of themselves, but Jazz was sure that would've been discovered by now. An evil Wheeljack, after all, would be hard to hide.

At any rate, it was a confident Jazz that went to the rec room later that night to visit with friends, only to be surprised to find both Prowls already there, sitting at a table of laughing mechs, and one similarly laughing human. One of the Ratchets was present at said table, along with Ironhide, Sideswipe, and oddly enough, Prime himself. Curious as to just how that collection of bots had come to be, Jazz headed over.

"So did Sides get a promo ta th'officer's table while I was gone or somethin'?" Jazz asked casually as he walked up. The attention of the mechs at the table turned towards him, and Jazz couldn't help but shift slightly uncomfortably and the sheer number of smirks that were suddenly facing him. "What?" he asked somewhat warily.

"Jazz, why don't you join us,” Ratchet said, sounding smug.

"Yeah, we were just talking about you,” Sideswipe said, grinning widely. Two Prowl glares focussed on the red twin, who shrank against Ratchet with mock horror before bursting into snickers.

"Well, y'all appear ta be short a seat for me ta join ya, other-" Jazz was cut off as one of the Prowl's snagged his arm and pulled Jazz onto his lap. The saboteur let out an undignified squawk as he tried to regain his bearings.

"Plenty of seats,” the Prowl that Jazz wasn't sitting on said pleasantly.

"Usually one looks for seats without mechs in them ta sit in, though,” Jazz said with a shake of his head, trying to figure out just how to take this particular development.

"True. But we'd much rather have you sitting in our lap than sit in each other's,” the Prowl that Jazz was sitting on commented. Jazz shook his head and glanced around the table, seeing amused looks all around, and decided to just go with it. Even Prime and Spike were grinning widely.

"So has he been usin' th'plural ever since this happened?" Jazz asked curiously, deciding a change of topic was in order. He had no idea how Prowl had suddenly gotten so comfortable making comments like that in this particular company, especially in the middle of the rec room, but then, he'd never seen Prowl flirt before, either.

"Yes, we have,” non-chair-Prowl answered.

"They seem to find it easier, since they always have comm lines open to each other,” Ratchet said. "Which would be a useful idea if doing the same with the other me wouldn't leave us both out of commission." The medic glared slightly at Sideswipe, who grinned back innocently.

"Can you blame us for enjoying the fact that there's two of you? You certainly tend to enjoy that there's two of us,” the red twin said unrepentedly. Jazz shook his head.

"So where's Jack? Still working on how to fix this?" Jazz asked curiously.

"Ehm, not exactly,” Spike said as the mechs around the table, even the Prowl Jazz was sitting on, collectively shuddered. This group reaction was quickly followed by drinks of energon that, as it passed by Jazz's olfactory sensors, the saboteur realized was rather strong high grade. Well, that explained a lot - even Spike, now that Jazz was looking, apparently had a beer in hand, despite being too young to have it.

"Not exactly?" Jazz asked, now extremely interested in the answer.

"Well, see, Prime and I went to check up on Wheeljack after I left you at your quarters, Jazz,” the Prowl Jazz wasn't sitting on said, nodding to Prime.

"And along th'way I showed up ta chat with Prahm 'bout some new security measures Red wants ta introduce with th'duplicates runnin' 'round,” Ironhide piped up, nodding to the Prowls.

"And I was trying to get Sideswipe to go bother the other me, so I decided to follow when they passed the med bay,” Ratchet put in.

"So we all happened to be the ones to find out that the Wheeljacks were apparently taking a break and neglected to lock the door to their lab,” Prime said, then took another quick drink.

"Taking a break?" Jazz said, looking confused. Most of the mechs looked either embarrassed or uncomfortable, and it ended up being Spike that explained.

"Let's just say that I now know how you guys have sex,” the human said, then promptly downed the remainder of his beer, speaking up again once he set it down and opened another from the mostly-gone six-pack beside him, "Also, I now know the meaning of 'curiosity killed the cat', and will never, ever come see what you're all looking at the next time I find a group of you standing in a corridor with blank looks on your faces." Jazz stared at Spike for a moment, letting the human's words sink in.

"So, Jack an' Jack...were interfacin' in their lab?" Jazz asked after a moment. Several more shudders around the table.

"Precisely,” Ratchet said.

"I'm going to get another round,” Sideswipe said, sounding disturbed, and nobody stopped him as he headed to do just that.

"Wow,” Jazz mused. "Guess there really ISN'T anythin' he won't try."

"Oh Primus, don't we know it,” Ironhide said with a groan.

"So this would be th' table'a 'Those Traumatized By Jack' then,” Jazz said with a chuckle, finding the situation quite funny. Even if he had been one of those to walk in on the two Wheeljack's, he'd probably be more amused than embarrassed like everyone here was.

"Also the table of 'Those Plotting Revenge',” Ironhide commented. "But we're a lil' short on ideas."

"You wouldn't happen to have any in your sneaky little head, would you?" Ratchet asked hopefully.

"Short'a makin' sure a video tape of th' event gets inta Megatron's hands an' ensurin' Jack is on comm duty th'night th'reply comes in, sorry, nope,” Jazz said. There was a momentary silence at the table, and then evil grins passed between each of the mechs, while Spike collapsed into convulsive laughter.

"I think that's enough for you, Spike,” Prime said with amusement, reaching over and grabbing the remaining can of the six-pack to store away. "I'm sure your dad will understand when we explain where his beer went when he comes back, but I think he would prefer if we didn't let you get completely overcharged."

"I believe the term is 'plastered', Prahm,” Ironhide commented.

"See, human phrases like that, I don't understand. What does getting overcharged have to do with building renovations?" Optimus replied. "It sounds like one of those weird phrases _you'd_ come up with, Ironhide!"

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Ironhide said, sounding slightly offended, and Jazz watched with amusement as the oldest bot on earth and the Autobot's Commander in Chief started bickering like younglings.

"Don't mind them. They do that when overcharged,” Ratchet said, regaining Jazz's attention. "It just means that we shouldn't give them any more unless we want to haul their afts back to their quarters." Sideswipe, returning then, seemed to have anticipated that, returning with only five cubes of high grade. The two Prowls and Ratchet promptly drained what little remained of their old cubes before accepting the new one from Sideswipe, who handed one to Jazz before downing the remains of his old cube and picking up the new one.

"So, do you guys have taste buds?" Spike asked randomly from where he was now laying flat on his back on the table, staring up at the ceiling, and at the mechs around him. Jazz was somewhat surprised at the non-sequetor, but as Ratchet started replying, Jazz suspected the evening's conversation was going to be generally non-sequetor, as everyone tried to avoid thinking about what they'd seen. Jazz mostly just listened, and tried to ignore the fact that his 'seat' was discretely feeling him up, getting more and more bold the more cubes of high grade Sideswipe supplied. Eventually, however, Jazz decided he'd had enough, and that if he stayed here much longer, he'd end up jumping one or both of the Prowls in the middle of the rec room.

"Leaving so soon?" Ratchet asked as Jazz stood up, smirking - the medic had noticed Jazz's increased squirming, even making a pointed remark at one point about how Jazz's fans seemed louder than normal, and did he need them looked over?

"I did just back from a mission, still a little short on recharge,” Jazz said dryly, neatly escaping from the wandering hands of both Prowls, who looked back at him innocently. "You guys have fun plottin' yer revenge, I'll see ya tomorrow." There was a chorus of goodnights, and then Jazz headed out, ignoring the smirks of the other Autobots in the rec room. He got half-way back to his quarters before he ran into the Wheeljacks, chatting animatedly while they walked.

"Hi Jazz!" they chorused when they saw him, fins flashing brightly. "Enjoying having two Prowls around?"

"Not as much as you're evidently enjoyin' having two'a yourself around,” Jazz said dryly. The Wheeljack's gave Jazz a deer-in-headlights look. "Ya might wanna avoid the Prowls, Ratchets, Sideswipe, Ironhide, Prime, an' Spike. Apparently they came ta visit you in your lab earlier an' you forgot ta lock th'door."

"Oh Primus,” one of the Wheeljack's groaned.

"Is it my fault that I haven't gotten any in the past several vorns?" the other said, sounding somewhat defensive.

"No, it's your fault ya didn't lock th'door,” Jazz said dryly.

"Ratchet would've just overridden it anyways,” the defensive one pointed out.

"Yes, but see, then it would've been their fault for over-ridin' the lock, instead'a bein' your fault for not lockin' the door, or for doin' that in your lab,” Jazz said dryly.

"I suppose you're right,” the other Wheeljack murmured. "Well we'll just be more careful next time!"

"Next time? Never mind,” Jazz quickly cut off Wheeljack's answer. "I'm going to go get some recharge. You two be careful about lockin' doors from now on." Jazz shook his head as the Wheeljacks affirmed that they would be careful, and the saboteur resumed his course to his quarters, flopping onto the recharge berth gratefully and staring up at the ceiling for several long moments, his thoughts trying to play catch-up. As much as he'd decided to just 'go with it', his CPU was still trying to keep up with and comprehend the fact that not one, but TWO Prowls were flirting shamelessly with him now.

Of course, then it occurred to Jazz that, since this was two Prowls he was thinking about, he probably didn't have any choice in 'going with it'. Prowl was known for going after what he wanted, and getting it. Frag, the tactician had somehow managed to get Prime to agree to having a Cybertronian-sized chessboard installed in the Ark within a day of having Prime deny the original request. No one was quite sure how he'd done that yet, especially since there was no call to Cybertron for Prowl to call in one of the favours Elita One owed him. And there was also the Incident with Starscream and the power plant. The Seeker still kept a healthy distance from Prowl, and refused to negotiate with him.

So really, Jazz realized, he'd lost control of this situation the moment his fans had kicked in in the hallway outside his quarters. Jazz eventually fell into recharge still debating with himself if he should be running back to Cybertron or giddy with glee over this situation.

\---

Warmth. That was the first thing Jazz became aware of when he woke up - he was unusually, though not uncomfortably, warm. And also strangely comfortable - there was a steady thrumming coming from seemingly all around him that had such a soothing effect. In fact, Jazz realized as his reluctantly slipped further into consciousness, he was quite...content with where he was. It was warm, it was comfortable, it was soothing, and...it just moved.

Jazz's optics snapped on in surprise, and then he stared blankly at the reason for the warm, comfortable thrumming. Somehow, he was both surprised and...not. Glancing over his shoulder and seeing an identical sight as the one in front of him, Jazz sighed. He should have known, with the way the Prowls had been acting, that they'd override his door lock and pull something like this. Well, at least they were still in recharge, which meant he should be able to get out and have some time to think...oh wait, maybe not.

"Morning,” the Prowl in front of Jazz purred, his optics half-lit.

"Isn't it against regulations ta break inta someone's quarters durin' th'night while they're in recharge?" Jazz said the first thing that sprang to mind.

"Mmm, good luck getting Prime to do something about it,” the Prowl said with a small smirk, his optics dimming again as he snuggled closer.

"If he even wakes up before tomorrow. Ratchet and Ironhide had to take him back to his quarters last night,” an identically sleepy voice said from behind Jazz.

"And sang some rather lewd songs the entire way,” the Prowl in front of Jazz mused.

"Which brought up certain topics which eventually led to us being here,” the Prowl behind Jazz concluded.

"So even if you do go to Prime about it, it's all his fault anyways." Jazz gave the Prowl in front of him an incredulous look.

"I'm beginnin' ta believe your claims that you were a little hellion as a younglin',” the saboteur said.

"I told you I could logic my way out of, or into, anything,” Prowl said with a smirk.

"Especially into things,” the Prowl behind Jazz murmured, and Jazz twitched as the mech's hands started moving over his back, brushing across sensitive seams and generally making sure Jazz was wide awake.

"Uh...don't you think you're goin' a little, um, fast with this?" Jazz managed to get out. He may have realized last night that he'd essentially lost control of this whole situation, but frag it if he wasn't going to try to have some sort of input on it, at least.

"We figure we've been obtuse long enough, you deserve some repayment,” the Prowl in front said with a half-grin, then leaned in and kissed Jazz. Jazz couldn't really disagree with that, not only because the logic was sound, but because any sort of coherent objection left him the moment the kiss started. He was, instead, unerringly focused on the fact that there was not one, but _two_ Prowls here, and not only were they interested in him, but by Primus, their hands and mouths were everywhere.

Jazz could barely catch a moment to think about anything as the two Prowls' clever fingers worked their magic along his circuits, caressing and tugging where appropriate. It seemed like one of them was always kissing him at some point, and the other was always finding other interesting things to do with their mouth and glossa. Jazz's circuits sang, his fans kicking into overdrive quickly, unable to keep up. It was almost unnatural, how quickly they were working Jazz up, but the saboteur wasn't coherent enough to mind, nor would he have minded even if he was coherent enough. With such determined attackers, and no time to catch a breath, it wasn't surprising that Jazz found himself overloading within minutes, crashing over with an almost incomprehensible cry of Prowl's name in Cybertronian.

He was rather surprised he didn't get knocked off from the sudden overload, but Jazz found himself only strangely disoriented, staring up at the ceiling from his new position of flat on his back on his berth, seeing two Prowls hovering over him with identical pleased looks on their faces.

"You work fast, don'tcha?" Jazz said after a moment.

"Well, we've been wanting to do that for awhile,” one of the Prowls said. "So we figured we'd take advantage of the rather delectable opportunity that presented itself."

"Oh, you did, didya?" Jazz said, arching an optics ridge. "And what if I decide to retaliate? I am a saboteur."

"True, but we have a weapon you can't top,” the other Prowl said, grinning widely.

"And what might that be?" Jazz asked, honestly curious.

"Something we learned from Wheeljack,” the first Prowl said, and then Jazz could only stare as the two of them engaged in what was possibly the weirdest, most erotic thing he'd ever seen: kissing each other passionately. Jazz had no idea why, but his circuits were heating up again just watching it. Which, of course, the Prowls noticed, grinning widely when they pulled away.

"That's...remind me to tell Jack to leave his door unlocked more often,” Jazz said after a moment, shaking his head and trying to regain his focus.

"No thanks, we've seen more than enough,” one of the Prowls said dryly.

"And besides, we'd never go anywhere near as far as he did,” the other one said. "We've got you, after all." Jazz stared at the two pleasantly smiling Prowls in surprise.

"Unless, of course, you'd rather we just go,” the first one put in.

"No no, you can, uhm, definitely stay,” Jazz hastened to reassure. He'd pretty much returned to his 'just go with it' philosophy at this point. Especially since one of the Prowls had found a sweet spot on his side and had been continually caressing it for the last half of the conversation. Jazz was unable to stop his engine from purring with pleasure, and the Prowls grinned. "Y'know, I was concerned that maybe Jack's invention had split ya inta good an' evil copies. But now I think it jus' made two evil copies'a ya."

"Or maybe I'm just always like this,” one of the Prowls said, and Jazz was surprisingly aware of the singular pronoun as the other one leaned down next to his audio to speak.

"You'll just have to stick around if you want to find out,” that Prowl murmured, then unexpectedly ran his glossa up the side of Jazz's helm, ending with a light kiss on the tip of the saboteur's horn. Jazz shuddered at the pleasant sensation, but wasn't about to let himself get carried away this time. He, after all, had two Prowls to play with now, and there were certain observations he'd made that he'd always wanted to prove or disprove. One of which was the sensitivity of Prowl's chevron. And oh look, one just happened to be close by. Jazz turned his head and nuzzled against the red metal, careful to keep the movement light, and smiled slightly as he felt both the Prowls shiver slightly. It seems they'd not only kept their comm lines open, but a few other lines as well.

Jazz took full advantage, one of his hands sneaking up to explore the other Prowl's waist, which he'd long ago discovered was ticklish and might therefore very well be sensitive to other stimulae, while he mouthed along the edge of the chevron that remained within reached. The Prowls, in retaliation, returned their fingers to those sensitive seams and joints, one hand finding Jazz's headlights and another fondling under his bumper. Jazz's engine purred away happily, and he abandoned the chevron for the time being to steal a kiss, taking it slow and leisurely. The other Prowl, not to be left one, leaned in to nibble along Jazz's neck cables.

As fast as Jazz's previous overload had been, this one was slow. Their original objective achieved, the Prowls seemed content to take their time, and Jazz was more than happy to let them, as the longer they took, the more he got to explore, to find the sweet spots and sensitive wires that made the two identical mechs squirm. Jazz had never had such fun, such pleasure, from just touching any of his previous berth partners - not that he was a particularly promiscuous mech, despite rumours, but he was fairly experienced. Mostly from before he'd met Prowl. Jazz grinned to himself as he suddenly remembered the last femme he'd had any sort of steady relationship with, and her reason for breaking it off with him - _"I can handle cheating, but your mooning after him is driving me_ insane. _Just go jump him already!"_ had been her final words to him as his girlfriend. He'd have to look her up the next time he was back on Cybertron and, if she was still alive, let her know he'd finally gotten around to following her advice. Well, sort of. He figured it counted if Prowl jumped him and not the other way around.

"What's so funny?" Prowl's voice brought Jazz out of his memory, and the saboteur's grin widened.

"Nothing, just thinking of some advice a friend once gave me,” he said.

"Oh, and what was that advice?" the same Prowl asked, the other one busy exploring along Jazz's waist with his mouth, making the saboteur uncertain as to whether he'd ever be able to feel his legs again, there was so much pleasant sensation coursing through them

"Something along the lines of taking advantage of the situation if I ever found myself in the middle of a Prowl sandwich,” Jazz said with a chuckle, and before Prowl could object as to how no one could give that sort of advice without knowing that he was going to be duplicated at some point, the saboteur engaged him into another kiss. Then he decided it was time to try out his last, and possibly best, guess about Prowl's sensitive spots - his door wings.

Both Prowls stilled as soon as Jazz's fingers began caressing along the underside of one of the doorwings, and Jazz almost withdrew his hand until he realized Prowl's engine had just started racing, followed quickly by two sets of internal fans kicking in. Jazz found himself regretting the fact that he couldn't easily reach the other Prowl's doorwings from his current position, but busied himself with the set he could reach as the Prowls recovered with a passion. They moved with a frantic pace closer to what they'd used from Jazz's first overload, but as fast as they worked, Jazz worked faster, especially with a set of doorwings as hostage. The two Prowls went into overload at the same time, each pressing themselves close to Jazz so that the vibrations and heat of their own overloads pushed Jazz over the edge as well, all three of them crying out wordlessly.

\---

"Well, look who finally decided to join us,” Ironhide said grumpily as Jazz stepped into the command center, a full hour late for his scheduled shift.

"You can try an' put Prowl in the brig if you want, cuz I'm claiming innocence,” Jazz said, grinning widely. Ironhide shook his head.

"Youngsters,” he grumbled. "Just take over already, willya? My processor's still achin' from last night."

"Funny, Prowl - both of him - were juuuust fine,” Jazz said pleasantly.

"Aw shaddup,” Ironhide said with a glare.

"You know, I'm sure with two of him we could sneak her past Shockwave easily enough!" Jazz called cheerily after the large red mech who was already leaving.

"Do it, an' then we'll talk!" Ironhide called back, and Jazz laughed as he resumed his seat.

\---

"Well, now that we're _all_ here," Ratchet said with a mild glare in the direction of the twins and his irritated-looking double, who they were hanging off of, "Let's get on with it, shall we, Jack?"

"Of course! If all the duplicates would just step onto the pad," one of the Wheeljacks said merrily from where he was messing with a control panel on the large device taking up almost the entire lab. The other Wheeljack was already standing there humming a cheery tune, and the Ratchets quickly shed themselves of the twins before joining him. Jazz himself was subjected to a double grope from the two Prowls that made him yelp unexpectedly before the Prowls joined the others on the pad.

"Sure you don't need us ta do anythin'?" Jazz asked the Wheeljack that was just finishing up with the machine.

"No, we set it up to be operated easily from on the pad,” the inventor replied cheerfully.

"You have tested this, right?" Ratchet asked sternly as the other Wheeljack joined them on the pad.

"Of course, we used duplicate parts from the other lab,” the humming Wheeljack said, breaking off in his humming to speak. "You have nothing to worry about, Ratchet, you'll be back to being perfectly unique in no time." The Ratchets mumbled something unintelligible.

"Are we ready, Wheeljack?" one of the Prowls asked, and in answer, the Wheeljack closest to the control panel reached over and pressed a button.

"Keep your limbs inside the pad, gentlemechs, and this should be over shortly with a minimum amount of pain!" he said cheerfully.

"Pain?!" one of the Ratchets demanded with a glare, but before he could say any more, everyone on the pad began...shimmering, and then glowing so brightly that Jazz and the others watching had to look away. And then came the by-now-expected explosion, a loud bang sounding as the machine sprayed sparks and smoke everywhere. The automatic fire suppressant system kicked into after a few moments, sealing the doors and sucking the air out of the room after determining that there were no plasma fires. Once the fires were out, the fans and ventilation kicked in, getting rid of the smoke and returning atmosphere to the lab.

Jazz, wanting to know if it worked, rapidly cycled his optics until he got a clear picture, and smiled when he saw only three mechs on the platform - one smacking another about the head, and a third stand off to the side without getting involved. Sure, he'd miss having two Prowls around, but some things were just less awkward with only one.

"Did it work?" Sunstreaker asked from Jazz's left, clearly unable to see yet. Jazz opened his mouth to respond, but was beaten to it.

"Looks like it,” the familiar voice made Jazz pause, trying to place where he'd heard it before, and then two identical cackles came from the floor to his left, and Jazz looked over with a frown, only to find exactly what he'd though - two identical Sideswipes literally rolling on the floor, laughing too hard to remain upright. With a sinking suspicion, he then turned to look behind himself, meeting his own surprised gaze.

"Oh you're fragging _kidding_ me,” Ratchet groaned from the platform, and both Jazzs looked over to see the medic groan, dropping his head into his hands. Wheeljack, beside him, was staring in astonishment, and Prowl...

Jazz looked back at the other him and grinned - and when they looked back, Prowl was already heading for the door at a rapid pace, calling an order over his shoulder for Wheeljack to have the machine fixed as soon as possible, before the Sideswipes could destroy the base. The Jazzs were quick to pursue the fleeing tactician - he wasn't going to get away from them that easily, no sir, not until they'd had their fun, too.


End file.
